I’m probably missing something really obvious

Item – In my last post, when I said: ‘I notice, stat-wise, that when I post graphically about my periods, a large chunk of my readership, eh, averts its eyes and scuttles demurely away,’ I didn’t mean, dear hearts, that I expected more comments. I know that sometimes you can read a post, and feel all the sympathy and concern in the world, and… just have absolutely nothing to say. I’m like that the whole time. No, what I actually meant, and should’ve made clearer, is that I actually get fewer ‘clicks’ from people coming over from places like Google Reader and other assorted RSS feeds. It seems (note ‘seems’) as if, when people can tell from the title and first few lines they can see in the reader, that this is going to be a gore-soaked lady-bits post, they just don’t come over and read it. Which is fair enough. In fact, more than fair enough. 93% of all blog-anxst could be so neatly avoided if people just didn’t force themselves to read posts they know they’re not going to like/agree with/appreciate.

Item – That said, my tagline is ‘Too much information will certainly be shared’ for a reason. This is an infertility and busted-lady-parts blog. I fully set out to discuss busted-lady-parts from day one. Why subscribe if you don’t want to read about busted-lady-parts? I mean that with all sincere, earnest, wide-eyed curiosity, and hardly any snark at all. What is there to gain from following my vapourings if not a hearty dose of Mother Nature, Red In Tooth And Claw sympathy/empathy/car-crash rubbernecking/solidarity?

Item – I am not sure where I am going with that last item, so I shall unceremoniously abandon it and go off on a tangent.

Item – This is the tangent. I sometimes trawl about the blogosphere looking for other women like myself, or spouses of women like myself, who have something on the endometriosis/adenomyosis/fibroids/uterine fuckery spectrum. For the solidarity, you know, also tips on survival. I am constantly bewildered by the amount of blogs out there that announce, in the tagline, the ‘about’ page, the categories, even the blog name, that the writer thereof has Uterine Fuckery, and yet it is barely mentioned in the posts. Occasionally, the writer might demurely refer to her ‘symptoms’ getting better or worse (no idea what symptoms), or announce that she had a lap and stage whateveritwas endo was found. And… that’s it. Apparently, these ladies are never in pain, never bleed through their clothes, never collapse at work, never miss work, never send their partners out for emergency 24-hour-chemist raids, yada yada yada. I don’t understand it. Are that many women asymptomatic or only mildly inconvenienced, but nevertheless think it’s something to name their blog after? If they are suffering the torments of the damned, why not say so? Why base a whole blog and online identity around the endometriosis diagnosis if you’re never, ever going to mention it at all in anything other than terms that would pass muster in a Victorian drawing-room? I mean, fair enough, obviously, not discussing it if you’re not comfortable doing so, but then I’d expect the blog to be called something else. It’s like calling a blog ‘May’s crazy-wild sex antics!’ and then only very briefly mentioning having ‘relations’ with the husband maybe twice in four years’ blogging. The Gentle (if not Genteel) Reader would have every right to wonder what in living crikey was this, a joke? An exercise in supreme irony? The hell?

Item – Feel free to tell me I’m an idiot, and why, by the way. I need to know. Especially if I really am being an idiot about this.

Item – Meanwhile, in terms of my own Uterine Fuckery (nickname ‘Cute Ute’ now so laden with irony that it is probably the real reason I’m not anaemic), basically, for the last four days, I have bled lightly, sometimes very lightly, all day, and then, suddenly, each evening, it’s like Old Faithful has gone off. There follows an interval of anywhere between an hour and three hours in which, well, you know that bit in The Shining? And then it all stops again. This is weird, right? It is weird. Yes. I think it is.

Item – This evening, while I was rushing back to the bathroom for the third tampon-change in less than an hour, H’s nose started bleeding as well. What is this, couvade?

Item – Laparoscopy pre-op hospital appointment on Friday – the one where they weigh you, ask about all your illnesses and drugs and relations and everything, and put it all on a form they can then lose at their leisure. Seeing as you’ll talk them through it all again, twice, on the day of the surgery itself.

Item – H was wondering whether to post something here himself this week. Please do feel free to nag him until he does.


16 responses to “I’m probably missing something really obvious

  • BigP's Heather

    That is strange, for it to be so heavy in the evening. I would assume the morning time, after you had been asleep and horizontal for so long…

    Yes, H should totally post something.

  • a

    I think endometriosis is kind of a catch-all term for unusual periods. Yes, I do realize that it is actually a disease with specific parameters, but I suspect that many people get thrown under that label for lack of better ideas. Or instead of actually investigating. But I’m not at all cynical about the medical field.

    I also suspect that people come here not necessarily to read about your innards, but because you write so well and are often so impassioned.

  • bionicbrooklynite

    i come for the twatweasels, myself. but you knew that.

    i do think a lot of people end up with poorly named blog because you have to name the blog at the beginning of the process — probably when you’re all hyped up about a new diagnosis or some new phase of shittiness — but it’s hard to tell what the blog will be about until you get going.

    but that only answers your question for maybe 5% of the blogs you’re talking about. for the others, i don’t know, but an awful lot of people are pretty dull to listen to at length. how many blogs do i come across that seem to be about something that interests me but actually devolve into highly-specific, endless letters to baby at every month, plus tips on decluttering and lots of carrying on about shining of sinks? too.fucking.many.

  • bkwyrm@bkwyrm.net

    FWIW, I click over for your posts about ANYTHING because I like how you write. Also, I am now emotionally invested in your reproductive quest (is that weird? it’s weird. I know it is. Go ahead, tell me that.) and the descriptions of your symptoms make me shout things about ultrasounds and MRIs and WHY DOESN’T SOMEONE HELP THIS WOMAN?!? at my computer screen. Which, given that I’m in Chicago, doesn’t do you much good.

  • A

    I agree with a. I also come here for your sheer brilliance. I imagine myself rushing into Waterstones when I see your blog in my inbox. I always enjoy how you tell it. If I don’t alwas enjoy reading about your pain (mental and physical).

    I love your writing style. I love your character and I think so many women could find comfort in common ground, here. In fact, I often find myself saying “You should read this blog. She’s brilliant! It could help you.”

    I always want to comment. But mostly don’t know what to say. I also think that is due to your deliverance. Everything has already been said and concluded. Without constantly sending you virtual hugs and best wishes – I always imagine you know you’ve moved us all yet again and that we’re hoping for the absolute best for you. After all – there has to be a Happy Ever After to this story, doesn’t there?..

  • Quiet Dreams

    I don’t often comment, but I always read every gory detail. I often feel a bit guilty because I don’t have babies either (and want them), but at least it’s not literally gut wrenching. (Notice the proper use of the word “literally.”)

    And I would also read a blog about May’s crazy wild sex antics. Sounds quite entertaining (for us and for May).

  • twangy

    True, come for the writing, stay for the writing – your blog could be reviews of Marigold kitchen gloves, and we’d still be reading.


    Reckoning Bionic is on to something – people – (well, women in this case, clearly) – might start to post with a need to express the horror of their situation, but as time goes on, things change, that moment is gone. Also with all the sssshhhh, ssshhh, godhowembarrassing repressive feelings we are taught to have about our bodies, well. Not surprising, maybe. This is another reason we need this blog. We read to know we are not alone, too.

  • Betty M

    Yes please to a post from the lovely H.

    I wish you didn’t have internal nasties to write about but only cos I’d rather you had straightforward innards that did your bidding. At this point I’d stay to read your shopping lists If that’s all you were minded to post in the hope that one day you’d start back again with the other great stuff.

  • minichessemouse

    i read it All (I even made it all the way back to the beginning) and I have travelled on your journey with you. I can’t profess to having anything on the same scale of problems, my periods are VERY irregular, but they are usually kept at bay with chocolate, paracetamol and a hot wheat bottle (shaped like a giant bee)and Though for a time we were not trying, not preventing, we have seen the error of our ways and are being sensible for a time.

    I sit and watch and learn, if it weren’t for you and others I wouldn’t know that others had it this hard. I wouldn’t know that my irregular cycles are nothing much to worry about, and that others struggle through so much worse every month and can still be witty and intelligent and lovely.

  • Shannon

    I’m here for the writing, the writing, and the writing. Plus I love your vocabulary, your humor, and having met you, I do indeed love you too and not in a Sapphic “delete Shannon from friend list” kind of way.

    Pre-Mirena I was one of those heavy bleeders, to the point that I believe I drove off all the men who read my site from my constant mention of bichon frisee size tampons. I called it like I saw it. Mooncups, heavy periods, PMS, none of it was off limits. I didn’t have quite the pain you did though, my dearest, and I never know quite what to say when you’re in so much pain other than my desire to mug random pharmaceutical representatives to see if they have anything that can help.

    I adore your writing.

    Yes please, H, come write.

    And did you know – Jeffrey Eugenides has a new novel coming out next month. A NEW NOVEL!!!

  • katie

    I don’t have the issues you have, and I never have done, though I’ve had other physical ailments, including some that are pretty painful. But I get bored thinking and reading about my own pain, so I censor it a bit (summer two years ago could have just been day after day of My Shoulder Bloody Hurts Make It Stop). So I imagine these other people with “issues” do that as well. But they probably don’t write as well as you do.

  • Anonymous

    I’m with bionicbrooklynite> I’m here for the twatweasels and their kin.

  • kylie

    I won’t say I enjoy reading the posts, primarily because you are obviously in pain and that just seems like the wrong wording. It is part of the whole story though, and I check on a very regular basis. One day my boss is going to query what economic/financial news I garner through “nuts in may”
    On the changing nature of blogs- mine started out as sunny happy, and then took a wrong turn somewhere along the way, and now my mother asks me why I have to write about my malfunctioning innards so much. So I self censor, as one third of the reading audience doesn’t appreciate. Doesn’t help- I got in trouble because she found about my EBV through the blog, which is now mutating into a “i can’t get pregnant naturally and my liver jumped the shark so drugs aren’t good either” blog. Can’t wait to find that little blogging community on the net.

    • May

      I had severe glandular fever EBV as a teenager. Spent nearly a year feeling corpsey. My liver was so fried (got drunk on half-a-pint for YEARS. Upside and downside). You poor woman.

      And you have encapsulated EXACTLY why I blog anonymously. If my mother ever read this, I… I… Don’t know. Something awful.

  • Chickenpig

    There was a time if I wrote a blog it would have ALL been uterine fuckery. I am very, very lucky that one massive surgery has taken care of it…for now. I keep expecting the fuckers to come back. I find all of your posts, um, entertaining, in spite of all the gore. I promise I will comment more 🙂 I really wish I could be of more help when the red tide washes over you, those days really sucked for me and I still remember them clearly as it were yesterday.

%d bloggers like this: